All day, waiting for my
friend to die, for her pain to stop, for her husband, her sister to sleep. Now
awake close to midnight, out in the driveway, looking for shooting stars. The
night bugs sing all around: summer is ending. A short flick of light; another; a
longer one speeds by. Then a blue and gold Roman candle, headed East.
Lightning bugs faintly
glow in the grass--meteors
come to rest at last.
This helps...some.Thank you for sharing.
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